A few years ago, Emily and I were talking through something she read in a book on money. The big idea presented was that divvying everything up into categories of “needs” and “wants” is an oversimplification. A false dichotomy that leads us into one of two extremes, either treating money and wealth as something we are entitled to (as in prosperity theology), or acting as though money is entirely and utterly wicked.

The problem, of course, is neither is true. The either/or of what some have called prosperity vs poverty theology doesn’t seem to leave much room for appreciation or thankfulness. There is no real place for contentment if money is at best a necessary evil and at worst a god. You either hate it (and possibly hate that you have it) or you are never satisfied.

What I love about Paul’s letter to the Philippians is that he doesn’t encourage finding a balance between asceticism and obsession. Instead, he shows us an entirely different option—contentment.

The source of contentment

When I read this particular letter, I always get stuck on Philippians 4:10-13. “…For I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content,” Paul wrote.

I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.

I find this really challenging, no matter how many times I read it. I want it to be easier. I want the Bible to either give me license to chase money or command me to outright reject it entirely. But Paul doesn’t do this. Instead, he says, I have learned to be content in every circumstance.

When I have all that I need materially, I am content, he said. When I have more than I need, I am content. When I have less than I need, I am content. And why? Because, “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.”

That is the source of contentment— the recognition that God is the one who provided all he had. God sustained him. He strengthens Paul. He provides exactly what he needed in any and every circumstance, even while Paul was imprison. And that knowledge, by God’s grace, is what allowed Paul to be content.

Becoming content with the money I have (and what I don’t)

The same is true for me, and for you. Just as he did with Paul, God still provides exactly what we need for today, even if it’s not enough in our eyes. He sustains us and strengthens us. And because of this, we too can be content in whatever circumstances, whether being blessed with abundance or struggling to rub to pennies together.

Here’s what that looks like for me:

I try not to presume upon on God that money will show up. The older I’ve grown, the more I am anti-debt. As of this writing, Emily and I owe a grand total of about $5,000 in the entire world. Most of that has been due to a major repair job on the car earlier this year. I try to manage my finances in such a way that we have a bit of buffer and aren’t maxed out every single month (this can be a challenge at times, especially when utility costs are rising). While we use a credit card to collect points, we don’t fund a lavish lifestyle using it.

I try to encourage us to enjoy what we do have. This means Emily and I do have a line in our budget for things like eating out and going out for coffee. We have room for babysitting and occasionally going to the movies if there’s something worth seeing. We are not in the same position financially as we were when we owned a house. As renters, we have significantly more.

I try to remind myself that I am a steward, not an owner. I don’t own the money I’ve been given. It all belongs to God. And because of that, I want to be wise with how I spend and also how I give. This attitude has been helpful for me because it reminds me to be thankful, even as it challenges me to be responsible. What God has provided is enough, and we have never been without.

Yes, we have lacked in terms of wants in some seasons over the last 11 years. There have been seasons where we were lacking in needs, too. But in those circumstances, it was no hardship to be thankful and mean it. We had seen God provide, and we could trust that he would continue to provide what we needed.

I initially ignored it, citing my usual allergy to “Christian” cinema. But as “God’s Not Dead 2” hits theaters this weekend, I decided to finally give the movie a shot.

And here’s my review: “God’s Not Dead” is an offensive and harmful movie — and I say that as a Christian.

Now, the film isn’t poorly made. The acting is capable. Harold Cronk is a competent director. From a technical standpoint, “God’s Not Dead” is fine at what it does — but what it does is extremely problematic. “God’s Not Dead” sets out to be an encouragement for young Christians encountering challenges to their faith. But in the end, it actually fails its key audience and becomes the thing it’s preaching against.

The loss of good faith in public dialogue isn’t exclusive to one side of the aisle. Crank conservatism has found a patriarch in the 2016 Republican frontrunner, whose relentless personal attacks on any and all who challenge him are exposing a deep and systematic animus in right-wing politics. You don’t even have to explore what he says about immigrants and minorities to see this; a look at how he treats journalists and even party cohorts is jarring enough.

Regardless of whether or not Trump’s comments come from a genuine and convictional pro-life worldview, all pro-life Americans need to make this issue clear: Protecting unborn babies is not about punishing women, but punishing an industry and a culture that dehumanizes human beings.

Who would we liken Stephen to today? Not the great orator that thunders from the pulpit every week. Not the amazing leader who knows how to motivate and inspire. Not the great strategist who knows how to effectively facilitate church growth. Stephen is more like the guy who drives a truck, or works as an accountant, or sells insurance on the weekdays but week after week shows up on Sunday to stand at the door of the clothes closet. Or teach the 3rd grade Sunday school class. Or unstack and restack the chairs in the youth room. Or go with the pastor to the homes of the shut-ins to administer communion. He’s that guy. That regular old guy.

In his book The Art of Divine Contentment, Thomas Watson described 5 characteristics of a contented heart. I have found these to be both challenging and instructive in my own pursuit of contentment. I interact with his observations, updates some language and quote a fair bit below.

For those of us who are followers of Christ, we know our purpose is to live holy and glorify God. And part of glorifying God is making known his kingdom and his ways.

So how does our workplace fit into such a purpose? Should it be our primary mission field where we seek to carry out the Great Commission? Is it simply a means to provide for our families and earn enough money to support our church, missionaries, and parachurch organizations? Or is secular work—even for-profit business—the principle mission to which God calls many of us?

In the isolated dark office, sin disguises itself as “free” — free of cost, free of accountability, and free of consequences. Don’t believe the lie. Deconstructing the phrase “Free Porn” may save your marriage, and ultimately your relationship with Christ. Here is a truth we desperately need today — there is no such thing as free porn.

While confessing the sin of abortion may seem like it heaps more judgment and condemnation on you, God’s Word reveals something entirely different. When we turn to Jesus Christ in our conviction of sin—instead of shifting blame over it, justifying it, or simply ignoring it—we find hope and healing in the one who bore God’s wrath for sin on the cross.

“You must have a guardian Angel watching over you!” You’ve either heard it said or have said it to someone after their life took an unexpected and much needed turn for the better. It might seem like an irrelevant question in our post-modern, technological, post-enlightenment, scientific world; but, I care deeply about whether or not there are such things as guardian Angels appointed by God to watch over believers.

At that time, what I intended by putting that verse in my locker was to remind myself that I could run one more 40 yard dash through Christ who strengthens me. I could do one more drill through Christ who strengthens me. I could knock one more guy over through Christ who strengthens me. But then one faithful Friday night, my high school football team lined up across from another team – the Dumas Demons. And after the game, I saw a group of those Demons kneeling in prayer on the 50 yard line. And though it hadn’t struck me before, I suddenly came to the realization that there were probably actual Christians who played for the other team. In fact, there might even have been one Christian with Philippians 4:13 taped in their locker. So as I was trying to knock someone over with the power of Christ, so also might someone have been trying to knock me over with the same power.

“Well, that’s not that weird,” you may think. No, for real. It’s weird. Because for some reason, I can’t just do it once and be done with it. First, I go and tuck them in as soon as they’re ready for bed. You know the drill: Make sure the doors and windows are locked. Make sure they have enough blankets. Turn the big lights off and the little lights on. Pray. Hugs. Smooches on all 4 cheeks and 2 foreheads. That sort of thing. And then as I’m walking out the bedroom door to close it behind me, we try to see who can be the last one to say “I Love You.” (Macy always yells it one last time after the door is closed, which I treasure more than she knows.) At this point, the girls are all set. They’re happy and cozy and likely to drift off to peaceful sleep in just a few minutes. I literally do this every single night we’re in the same house together. I can’t sleep if I don’t.

When you try to cut out Christians with a religious cookie cutter, you not only tarnish diversity, but you trample on grace. It’s one thing for Christian subcultures to cultivate unique values. But it becomes destructive when those values are chiseled on Sinaitic tablets for all to obey.

Time is seen in a particularly different light by Eastern and Western cultures, and even within these groupings assumes quite dissimilar aspects from country to country. In the Western Hemisphere, the United States and Mexico employ time in such diametrically opposing manners that it causes intense friction between the two peoples. In Western Europe, the Swiss attitude to time bears little relation to that of neighboring Italy. Thais do not evaluate the passing of time in the same way that the Japanese do. In Britain the future stretches out in front of you. In Madagascar it flows into the back of your head from behind.

Christians are to be content. We see this modeled in Scripture in the life of the Apostle Paul (Phil. 4:9-11). We also see it commanded in Hebrews 13:5. In previous blog posts (here,here, and here) I’ve attempted to define what contentment is and why we must pursue it. Well, what is contentment? I’ve defined it the following way: Contentment is the inward, quiet spirit that joyfully submits to God’s providence.

She looks like my mother, but it couldn’t be her; this lady doesn’t even know my name. She thinks I have eleven brothers (I have two), including another named “Jeff” who lives next door. I reside 400 miles from my hometown in the Deep South, arguably in the lower Midwest if you want to make the case Louisville is not a Southern city. They don’t have sweet tea here. Not many grits are on the menu unless you count Cracker Barrel. Not exactly a Southern town. Formerly, mom would have agreed. Today, she doesn’t know I live in Louisville and cannot name the state in which it is located.

Most of those who read my blog are probably getting ready to enjoy a lovely Thanksgiving meal, followed by a football game and, perhaps, a Star Wars trailer. Lord willing, you’re not preparing to camp out in front of a store because that’d be just wrong.

Today, I will not be eating turkey with all the trimmings, nor will I be enjoying some type of delicious pie. I will be eating normal food because I am Canadian. For us, it is not Thanksgiving (that happened back in October). It is merely Thursday.

There are times when I get envious of my friends in America. It’s not because I am not happy to be a Canadian (I’m just fine with that), or anything like that. But one of the things we don’t really do well here is celebrate. We don’t have a terribly strong national identity (at least among the current generation of Canadians), and we fail to take serious stock of our history. The thing we’re most confident of, it seems, is the fact that we have “free” healthcare (if by free you mean, paid for through your income taxes rather than an insurance policy).

So when I see how American friends seem to genuinely love their country, and celebrate their history (even if they sometimes creatively edit it), I get a twinge of jealousy. But that’s kind of silly, isn’t it?

But that’s the thing about envy. Paul Tripp writes,

Envy … assumes understanding that no one has. Envy not only assumes that you know more about that other person’s life than you could ever know, it assumes that you have a clearer understanding of what is best than God does. [It] causes you to forget God’s amazing rescuing, transforming, empowering, and delivering grace. You become so occupied with accounting for what you do not have that the enormous blessings of God’s grace—blessings that we could not have earned, achieved, or deserved—go unrecognized and uncelebrated. And because envy focuses more on what you want than it does on the life that God has called you to, it keeps you from paying attention to God’s commands and warnings, and therefore leaves you in moral danger. (New Morning Mercies, November 27)

This applies as much to our national identity as it does to our personal lives.

While some Canadians have developed a distinct identity of being not Americans, others look at America and say, “I want that.” They see a form of democracy that is unique in all the western world, and wonder what it would be like to live there (even if that democracy seems to exist more in theory than in practice these days). They look at our massive social safety net and laissez-faire attitude toward everything from politics to the value of a child’s life to the government’s ongoing attempts to warp children with pervy sex-ed curricula and wonder if it’s possible to get refugee status on account of crazy.

But when all we see is what’s wrong, or what we don’t have, and our focus is only on the greener grass on the other side, we’re looking at all the wrong things. While not turning a blind eye to the problems of our nation (and there are some seriously messed up things about it), running away or wishing we were somewhere else doesn’t change where God has placed us. We could go, but our problems would follow.

We’d find new things to be envious of.

So we need a different solution. “The only solution to envy is God’s rescuing grace—grace that turns self-centered sinners into joyful and contented worshipers of God.”

The Tragedy of the American Dream

The worst part about anger is that is does not bring about the righteousness of that we desire (James 1:19) Instead it hurts those who are at the receiving end of our anger, disfigures our character, breeds hatred and distrusts,tears apart relationships, and worst of all dishonors God.

Why do we complain? We don’t like things the way they are. We feel that we deserve more. We are bitter. Bitterness is one of the worst contributors to complaining. Bitterness festers and grows so that we see everything in a haze of indignation, and we complain more. I know; I’ve been that person. I’m not proud of it, but seeing it in myself is very helpful. I don’t want to be one of those people whom others avoid because I complain so much.

When it comes to cultivating gratitude, we need all the help we can get. As I wrote last week, thanksgiving does not come naturally to sinful people. Grumbling and disputing comes natural (Philippians 2:14). Gratitude is the heart’s response to seeing and experiencing grace. And we must intentionally look for grace. It’s all around us. But selfishness distorts the lenses of our heart-eyes. So we need Scriptural prescription lenses to see right.

But once we begin to see, oh how things change. It is then that the real meaning of Thanksgiving dawns on us. We discover that the real feast of Thanksgiving is feasting on thanksgiving. Thursday’s American food feast is not the focus but is a finger that points us to a feast for our souls: God’s abounding, all-sufficient grace (2 Corinthians 9:8).

Now, if we (Americans) rush into Thursday’s celebration having barely reflected on gratitude, we will fill our stomachs but leave our souls hungry. So here are some resources that will help increase your thanksgiving appetite.

Sometimes it’s hard to know what to do, and sometimes it isn’t. The other night I had a flight to Atlanta and was lucky to get upgraded to business class. It was late, I was tired, and lights were low. People were reading, checking their phones, watching their tablets. I leaned back and drifted into half-slumber until a voice exclaimed, “Oh man, that’s f _ _ _ in’ awesome.”